


Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite

by flitterflutterfly



Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Insomnia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterflutterfly/pseuds/flitterflutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt had only moved to New York because Thomas hated the city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite

**Author's Note:**

> For the sexy_right Fic Tac Toe challenge, for the square “insomnia”.

There was no real reason Matt was out at two in the morning wandering the streets of New York City. Well, sure, there were plenty of reasons, but even he couldn’t say any of them were good ones.

Maybe it had something to do with moving to the city in the first place. His ex—and how it made him shiver to think of Thomas so—had never liked it, for one. That itself was a point in NYC’s favor. So here he was, while Thomas was still in DC fucking that Asian chick of his and maybe his newest boy toy alongside. Matt thought maybe he should pity the next in line, but then he didn’t have much pity for anyone. He saved it all for himself, most of the time.

_Don’t let the bed bugs bite, Matthew._

Moving to New York in it of itself didn’t explain Matt being out on the streets. That had to do with his insomnia, chronic. He’d lived with it since childhood and, really, it tended to work for him most of the time. He’d stay up for days on end, working on code after code, until he finished one and sent it off or maybe just kept it sitting in his archive and then he’d crash for at least twenty four hours before continuing the cycle all over again.

The streets were cold, well-lit only in segments and scarily dark in others. There was no moon or stars overhead, not because they didn’t exist but because to see them the unending cloud of pollution would have to disappear. Matt kicked at the sidewalk, his hand buried deep within his coat pocket. It wasn’t yet winter, but the end of fall was most closely realized at night and Matt worried about the heating in the crappy apartment he’d managed to find.

He hadn’t really thought about the implications of leaving said apartment that night. Only that he couldn’t sleep, he was stuck on his code, and he felt cramped. Boxed in. He needed fresh air so he’d grabbed his coat, locked up his door, and left.

He’d taken precautions, of course. He wasn’t stupid, was in fact possibly a genius however much the public school system had failed him, and so he’d left his wallet and phone at home. His apartment key he’d tucked in his shoe. The only thing of any value on his whole body was the coat he was wearing and even that had only cost fifty bucks (a sale at Ross) so if he lost it to some hyped up jackass then he wasn’t too worried.

In none of his precautions had Matt thought of the need to prepare for John McClane. After all, he’d never even heard of the man before he ran into him, literally.

.

The first time Matt had met Thomas, it had been at an FBI mixer thing. A sort of white hat opportunity to get a job with the Feds that Matt had only gone to because Warlock had threatened to murder him if he made him go alone and Mrs. Klaudis was forcing Freddie. Warlock had only actually agreed because his mother had just been diagnosed with breast cancer and he was worried enough, with her being the age she was, that he’d decided to be the best son he could be, at least for a little while.

John McClane wasn’t a name Matt knew before meeting the man, but Thomas Gabriel was. Every hacker worth his shit knew who Thomas Gabriel was. He’d quickly risen ranks from one of their own to one of the government’s top assets. He was given everything he could dream of if only he kept the country safe. He was pampered. He could get away with murder if he wanted to and he fucking knew it.

That alone should have scared Matt away, but then it actually worked in the opposite. Because when Thomas had come up to him where he was hiding by the snack table and smiled and actually seemed to be interested in him… well Matt had been flattered. Like every other boy to fall into the trap of Gabriel’s good looks, his wealth, and his charm.

.

Matt leaving DC hadn’t really been a premeditated choice. Mrs. Klaudis had died six months ago. It was at her funeral that Matt had realized he needed to leave DC and Thomas behind.

In fact, he’d left from Virginia, from the funeral, abandoning most of his possessions. He’d had to. He’d known that, had he come back to the apartment he and Thomas shared, Thomas would say something to make him stay and Matt would.

.

John didn’t smile at Matt like Thomas had. He didn’t say sweet things, but then John rarely ever did. John’s caring was shown by his actions. In that way, he was the opposite of Thomas, because while Thomas could wow anyone with his words and make you forgive the fact that he’d showed up late, yet again, to one of their dates, John would make sure to be there on time with chocolate or flowers, or at least the check already paid. And if John was caught up in the precinct than he would make sure to call and let Matt know.

John’s smile was a small quirk of the lips and a twinkling of his eyes. Matt preferred John’s over Thomas’ any day.

.

But Matt didn’t know any of that the night he went walking along the streets of New York City. All he knew about John was that he was a cop. The only reason he knew that was because he searched through the man’s pockets and found his badge clipped to his belt and had promptly freaked the fuck out.

John was passed out against the side of one of the creepy dark alleys that New York was known for when Matt ran into him. Or, to be more exact, tripped over him. He fell, and through it all John hadn’t said a word.

Mostly this was due to the fact that he was out cold. Matt wasn’t sure why, at first, not until he’d found the bump on the side of John’s head in his inspection, but that had been later, at his apartment, right before he learned about the cop thing and had almost shit his pants.

At the time, all he knew was that there was a man, complete unconscious, and Matt didn’t have his cellphone on him to call the police. It’s doubtful Matt would have called them even if he did have his phone, really, because the Feds might still be looking for him at Thomas’ orders and he didn’t want to confront his ex until he was sure he could say “no.”

No, the easiest and most difficult word of the English language.

Matt wasn’t far from his apartment, so he grabbed the man—John but he didn’t know that yet—and half dragged, half carried him to his shitty hole in the wall.

When he looked through the man’s pockets for some form of identification and found the badge, Matt had a moment’s thought of throwing him right back out in the alley, but he couldn’t, in all honesty. John, as he driver’s license said, was wearing only a tank top and jeans and it had to be at least freezing outside. Already his coloring was improving in the bare heat of Matt’s apartment with only a single ratty blanket thrown over him.

.

The first time Matt and Thomas had slept together, it had been freezing outside, too. In fact, a rare blizzard had hit DC and Matt had been unable to drive home so instead he’d stayed the night over at Thomas’. Just staying the night led to a long make-out session on the couch which led to the bed which led to Matt waking up to the sound of the shower running.

He’d never told Thomas that he’d taken his virginity, but he thought Thomas might have known regardless.

That just made it worse, in the long run.

.

Though the whole reason Matt had found John was because of insomnia, he found his eyes closing after just minutes of watching the cop sleeping on his couch. He went to bed, unconcerned, though perhaps he should be, of leaving the man in his apartment as he slept.

When Matt woke up the next morning, it was to a mug of coffee besides his bed and a note:  _Thanks for the save, kid._

Matt crumpled the note up and ignored it because thinking about it wasn’t going to be a good idea. He continued to ignore for days after, until a knock on his door had him coming face to face with John McClane, awake and looking much better.

Fifteen minutes later, they’d exhausted all possibility of Matt having seen the perpetrators and moved onto Matt asking the question, “Are you okay?”

John blinked.

“I mean,” Matt blushed. “That was a pretty hard hit to the head. You were out cold, that can’t be good for someone… for anyone.”

“Yeah kid,” John said. “I’m fine, thanks to you. Who knows what would have happened had I stayed out in the streets, but that’s in the past.”

Matt nodded, but the kid grated on him. “Can you not?” He paused. “Call me kid, I mean.”

John seemed taken aback for a moment and then he chuckled. “I don’t have a name for you, then.”

_Don’t let the bed bugs bite, Matthew._

“Matt,” he said.

“Matt,” John agreed. His eyes seemed to darken for a moment. “Do you have a last name, Matt?”

Matt froze for a moment too long for the seasoned cop not to notice, and then he sighed. “I’m not a criminal or anything,” he said. “I just… don’t want to go back.”

“Where?” John questioned softly.

“DC,” Matt admitted.

And that’s how Matt found himself telling John the whole sordid tale. The love affair turned sour and everything. And John didn’t flinch away from him in disgust. If anything, he came closer, but a comforting hand on Matt’s shoulder when he found himself struggling to go on.

“He’d do this thing,” Matt said. “On the nights he wanted to sleep with the others. He’d ask me to go to the basement, out of the way, and he’d say…” He took a deep breath, comforted by the weight of John’s hand. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite, Matthew.” He laughed, bitter. “There wasn’t even any fucking bed bugs, but I couldn’t-”

“Sleep?” John asked.

Matt looked up into John’s understanding eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” He paused. “Not that that’s a new thing for me.”

John looked away, his face twisting. “That just makes him more of a fucking bastard, then, if he knew that.”

Thomas had, but Matt didn’t need to say that aloud.

.

Things progressed from there, though Matt wouldn’t have expected it. John complained about having to go to New York Rangers games alone and though Matt wasn’t a hockey fan he came along because John was buying. Soon John was dissing Matt’s crappy apartment, but then Matt had to say that he couldn’t afford a better one because he couldn’t get any coding jobs and when John asked by he had to admit that all of his gear was still at Thomas’.

Matt didn’t know how John knew Deputy Director Bowman of the FBI, but one long phone call and several weeks later and most of Matt’s computers were set up in the corner of his crappy living room and he was back in business.

Twice, Thomas tried to call Matt on his cell after that, though he hadn’t bothered before Matt had gotten his things back, and after the second John picked up the phone for him and threatened Thomas with arrest if he didn’t stop.

Thomas did, most likely because Matt didn’t rate high enough on his list of fuck toys to have to go through all that trouble of getting him back. Matt didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset by that fact.

Five months after Matt took John back to his apartment, he was finally able to afford to move. John went apartment shopping with him and eventually he chose a place in John’s own apartment complex. It was just convenient, then, for them to eat meals together most nights when John wasn’t out late on stakeout or Matt wasn’t caught up in an important code for the Bureau or some high up private company.

.

In the end, it almost seemed inevitable that Matt would lean over during one of their nights curled up on John’s couch together watching the Saints versus the Patriots and kiss John on the lips.

And though in the moment Matt had been nervous, it almost seemed inevitable that John would kiss back.

.

The night after Thomas had talked to Matt at the FBI mixer, he’d taken Matt back to his condo and fucked him into the table. That night that Matt and John first kissed, they lazily made out until it got too late and John pulled back reluctantly and said he needed to go to bed if he didn’t want to pass out in front of the Chief the next day.

Matt laughed and disentangled himself from John’s all-too-fit body and walked back to his own apartment where he slept alone with a smile on his face. After all, he didn’t feel the need to rush things with John. They seemed too permanent for such a childish desire to be present.

When John and Matt finally did end up in bed together, it was on a rainy Sunday and after they curled up around each other on top of the covers, sweat cooling on their skin, and Matt couldn’t think of anything better.

At Thomas’ condo, he’d never found a good night’s sleep. Not in Thomas’ arms and definitely not out of them. In John’s arms, he passed out in minutes, feeling warm and safe and later when he woke up, it was to John shaking his gently, telling him he had to go and he was sorry.

And Matt was happy, because the worst thing was to wake up to an empty bed, and he kissed John goodbye and told him to have a good day at work and not to be too reckless unless he really needed to be and then went and showered and worked on code until John came home.

When John did, Matt met him at the door with another kiss and a smile and John smiled back with his eyes and a twitching of one side of his mouth. And Matt never wanted to leave.


End file.
